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old friend. He has a reason for it, no doubt." "Your spy-glass, uncle?" said Marie, taking it from him. "I want to be the first to see him." "But he is my son, mademoiselle!" "He has been your son for thirty years," answered the young girl, laughing, "and he has only been my betrothed for two!" The "Jeune-Hardie" was now entirely visible. Already the crew were preparing to cast anchor. The upper sails had been reefed. The sailors who were among the rigging might be recognized. But neither Marie nor Jean Cornbutte had yet been able to wave their hands at the captain of the ship. "Faith! there's the first mate, Andre Vasling," cried Clerbaut. "And there's Fidele Misonne, the carpenter," said another. "And our friend Penellan," said a third, saluting the sailor named. The "Jeune-Hardie" was only three cables' lengths from the shore, when a black flag ascended to the gaff of the brigantine. There was mourning on board! A shudder of terror seized the party and the heart of the young girl. The ship sadly swayed into port, and an icy silence reigned on its deck. Soon it had passed the end of the pier. Marie, Jean Cornbutte, and all their friends hurried towards the quay at which she was to anchor, and in a moment found themselves on board. "My son!" said Jean Cornbutte, who could only articulate these words. The sailors, with uncovered heads, pointed to the mourning flag. Marie uttered a cry of anguish, and fell into old Cornbutte's arms. Andre Vasling had brought back the "Jeune-Hardie," but Louis Cornbutte, Marie's betrothed, was not on board. CHAPTER II. Jean Cornbutte's Project. As soon as the young girl, confided to the care of the sympathizing friends, had left the ship, Andre Vasling, the mate, apprised Jean Cornbutte of the dreadful event which had deprived him of his son, narrated in the ship's journal as follows:-- [Illustration: Andre Vasling, the mate, apprised Jean Cornbutte of the dreadful event] "At the height of the Maelstrom, on the 26th of April, the ship, putting for the cape, by reason of bad weather and south-west winds, perceived signals of distress made by a schooner to the leeward. This schooner, deprived of its mizzen-mast, was running towards the whirlpool, under bare poles. Captain Louis Cornbutte, seeing that this vessel was hastening into imminent danger, resolved to go on board her. Despite the remonstrances of his crew, he had the long-boat
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